Bite My Tongue
by euphiiie
Summary: Confusion. Hatred. Unrequited Love. People who use other people. Go ahead, dive in. : au, incest & other pairs, multichap :
1. Smile, Stupid

C h a p t e r | O n e

( Smile, Stupid )

* * *

Luigi's bouncy, cheery steps are sort of like an earthquake are rippling through the house and certainly not making my hangover any less painful. His light steps sound a lot like thumping and I rather be shot twenty times instead of go through this headache and christ, even the kitchen light hurts my eyes. I let my forehead fall on the counter hard, my fingers still curled against the handle of the coffee cup that I'm not even considering drinking. I feel the cup being snatched away for my hand and I hear Luigi take a sip. Asshole.

"Please stop." I sigh, rubbing my forehead against the counter. "Im in alot of pain."

I look up and I see Luigi pout, which I admit is kind of cute. He walks over to the fridge and takes out the orange juice that has been there for god knows how long, he slams it onto the table and HOLY SHIT it feels like someone just jabbed a knife into my ear drum! I cup my ears and visibly cringe, Luigi sits in front of me and smirks, little prick. He's enjoying this isn't he? Next time he has a hangover, he's defiantly going to pay for it.

"I hate you!" I yelp out in agony, lowering my head. "I hate you so much!"

Luigi's stupid grin doesn't falter, I really want to punch him, can I punch him? It hurts to move anything, never mind, I'll get him later.

"Why are you so happy?" I ask through clenched teeth, Luigi's sipping is so freaking loud, it's sort of like he has plugs in his mouth that lead to the speakers in the living room. "I liked you way better when you were miserable."

Luigi's expression turns into a dreamy-dazed kind of look, something good must have happened last night while I was passed out on the couch. Goddammit, how come I miss everything? I should cut down on my alcohol intake or something, I've been having one to many blackouts.

"So?" I ask and the stupid look on his face dissapears, but the smile certainly sticks.

"I got laid last night." He sing-songs and my eyebrow shoots up in interest.

"You? Got laid? Really?" I ask, genuinely surprised and I'm so astonished that I can't take this news standing up. I rise up from my chair and lean in closer, Luigi's eyes lock with mine for a second before he drops his gaze back onto the greenish orange juice. I shove his shoulder, demanding that he finish. "Who was desperate enough to let you stick it in?"

Luigi makes an offended noise.

"She wasn't desperate!" He yelps as he stands up and slams the table with his hands, I can't help but make an amused noise. "She practically begged me to!"

I stifle a laugh and reach over to pat his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure it was. I bet it was the best two seconds of her life."

That last line got me a black eye.

* * *

"Marioooo," Luigi whines, blue eyes narrowed and he makes a cute pissed off face and it makes me feel a little weird to think that. "Your a fucking cheater!"

"I am not a cheater," I slur, sticking my tongue out at him. "Your aim just really sucks."

He frowns, slamming his left hand onto the table hard enough for the bowl of peanuts to shake, he digs into his pockets and pulls out a couple more quarters. I grin, I just looove kicking Luigi's ass in drinking games, especially when Luigi's stupid enough to bet cash. I always clean his pockets out.

"Another twenty bucks!" He slides the quater towards me. "It's your turn and no cheating!" He spits venomously and points his finger at me accusingly.

"I don't cheat," I say simple, bouncing the quarter onto the table and it lands inside the glass perfectly. "See? I don't need to." I sneer and I take another drink.

Luigi slams both his fists onto the table now, throwing a hissy fit like a stupid spoiled kid.

"FUCK!" He takes out the twenty and throws it at me. "Cheater!"

He makes a loud screeching sound, flailing his arms around and I laugh loud enough for the guy next to me to shift uncomfortably in his chair. I can feel at least a dozen eyes on us, are we the only ones acting stupid? I thought this was a bar? My vision is a little foggy, but I can still see how drunk Luigi is, his face flushed a delicate shade of pink and - wait, did I just use the word _delicate_? Whoa, I've obviously had to much to drink, maybe we should go. I get up and Luigi looks kind of sick or something, I grab onto his arm and start pulling him up.

"W-Wait, Mario..." Luigi chokes a little, his fingers going up to his throat and I look at him, trying to make my face look concerned when I actually feel like laughing. Luigi makes funny sounds when he's drunk. "I-I don't feel so..." He says softly, voice cracking but I pull him through the crowd and make my way towards the exit. I end up bumping into some really tall guy and Luigi stumbles behind me.

"M-Mairo, I'm gunna puke!" I hear him say and I panic.

I make the mistake of ducking out of his way.

And with a heave, a grimace and a shudder, Luigi pukes.

Yup. Fan-fucking-tastic. And right on top of the guy too.

I rush back to Luigi, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging onto him in what I assume is a protective manner, the guy looks murderous. Luigi's annoying and all but I don't want him to die or anything. The guy steps up menacingly and I'm still clinging, feeling a little nervous. I shove Luigi behind me, I know for a fact I can't take a punch right now, I can barely stand. The guy makes a lunge for me and he barely misses me.

Shit, I almost tripped over myself.

It feels almost a little awkward when my fist connected to the guy's jaw, I watch in awe has his head snaps back and he makes a noise out of intense pain. I hear Luigi say something behind me, but I don't pay attention to that, I grab onto his sleeve and drag him out the building.

Really nice way to end a night.

* * *

Luigi's mumbling things the whole time on our way home, I have his arm around my shoulder and it's kind of hard to carry him along when he's constantly stepping back. Funny, Luigi's only had two drinks and yet I'm the one carrying him. I had to go in his pockets in order to get the keys, since I left mine somewhere under the cushions of the couch, or maybe somewhere else. My memory was never one to trust. I jam the key into the keyhole and it takes me forever to open it mostly because Luigi won't stop moving. When I finally open the front door, I drag him into the living room.

"You alright?" I ask, a little bit worried.

My eyes met up with his and he was giving me this weird sentimental look, he starts nuzzling my neck and I don't know what to say so I just smile. I freeze up completely when he lifts up his head and kisses my cheek.

"Your so sweet," He slurs, rubbing against me and holy crap, I'm never letting Luigi drink _ever again_. "The way you protected me and stuffss.."

"Oh, um," I say, completely aware of how close he is to my face now and I try to back up. "No problem."

I spend a few minutes backing up and I end up with my back up against the wall and Luigi with his arms right next to my head, boxing me in and leaving me without any exit options.

"I love you, big bro." He mumbles as he presses his lips against my cheek and it tickles a little and somehow, amazingly enough, he still manages to smell good. Even after the accident and the bar and everything.

"Love you too, Weegee." I laugh, looking to the right nervously, but all I see is Luigi's arm and no chance of escaping, unless he moves. Seems unlikely. He starts leaning in very close and I stare at him stupidly for a split second before I finally realize. His lips smash against mine roughly, a yelp escapes the back of my throat and I can feel Luigi's hands traveling and _grabbing_ certain places.

I feel so violated.

I kind of like it.

_That's not right_.

I push him off, taking in deep inhales of much needed air, while Luigi licks his lips and stares at me.

"Wanna go to my room?" He asks, reaching over to grab my hand and I don't know what he's expecting me to say, my heart beats erratically at just the thought.

I twitch a little before answering.

"Yes, I would."

* * *


	2. Hello, Stranger

C h a p t e r | T w o

( Hello, Stranger )

* * *

The first thing I see when I wake up is long blonde hair.

Blonde hair that I'm sure isn't mine and my body shoots up, a little alarmed, I can't remember who the girl next to me is, or why she's here. I peer over the girl's shoulder, leaning over her and by the looks of it, she's naked. Her skin is perfect, clear and milky looking, she's way prettier then I am. I'm pretty sure we had sex, or maybe just fooled around, considering I'm naked too. I can't really help myself when I trace my finger along her shoulder, her skin is so smooth and feels silky. Why would she jump into bed with me? I'm not pretty, not like her. I jump up a little when I see her shift, she makes a sweet sound as she moves, like she's having a really good dream.

I found myself secretly hoping that she was dreaming about me.

She's moving again, this time stretching and yawning and muttering something, she's wide awake. Her hair is mussed up on the side, shinning in the sunlight and she looks a lot like an angel, all you need is the wings - it'd be perfect. For some reason I slam myself down back to the mattress to make it seem like I'm still sleeping, but I'm pretty sure she already knows. I hear her move and I can feel her eyes on me, she giggles and I can feel her sprawling herself onto the bed towards me, her index finger curling around a strand of my hair.

"Rosie?" She asks sweetly, her body pressing up against mine through the blankets while I blush at what is appearently my nickname. "Are you awake?"

She's kissing my neck.

"Yeah." I squeak, nervousness (is that even a word?) sticking in my throat like really thick flem.

"Want breakfast?" She asks and I can hear the smile in her words. "I finally learned how to make omlettes without burning them." She sat up slowly, tucking the sheet under her arms and hopping off the bed towards the kitchen like a rabbit, leaving me without something to cover myself with.

"Uh, sure." I mumble back, scanning the room, looking for my dress or some article of clothing, I can't find mine - but I can see her bright pink dress peaking from underneath my bed. I reach over to grab it, covering myself up and I walk over to her, she's tinkering with the stove and bending over to rummage for a frying pan, the blanket falls around her ankles and all I see is her creamy skin. She whirls around to face me, her hair covering most of her chest and I flush the brightest shade of scarlet when she laughs at me.

"Your so _cute_." She says, her fingers pinching my cheek.

I sit down and watch her cook, when she's finished she slides it on my plate and when I take a bite I try not to cringe, she put too much salt.

"Good?" She asks, her fork cutting just a sliver off for herself and holding it up.

"Yeah." I say, trying to keep from hacking violently, I convulsed, attempting to swallow.

When she smiles, it's just about enough to make my heart pop out of my chest completely. Well, almost.

* * *

"You..have to leave? Now?" I ask, my voice leaking in the slightest bit of disappointment, I really hoped that she would stay longer. I wanted to cuddle her, to be completely honest, I haven't had any romantic interaction with anyone in awhile and I spend at least the past seven minutes brainstorming about how to get her to stay another night. She already said that she had to go eat dinner with her parents, so I guess she can't stay with me. Fuck.

"Yeah, promised my Mom I'd spend time with her and stuff." She says, letting my brush go through her hair as she stares at me through the vanity mirror. "But we could spend next weekend together, if you want." She spins around of the roller chair to face me, hands clasped on her lap.

"That would be...nice."

I wonder how stupid I look right now. She doesn't seem to mind though, since she got up and kissed me. Oh god, her lips are soft and she's so warm. I cling onto her and my fingers are in her hair and I end up kissing her harder then she is me and I think I may be suffocating her right now.

It's embarrassing how she has to push me off her.

"Give me some time to breath?" She asks and my face gets a lot redder then before as I nod. She fixes her hair, which was mussed up by my fingers and I brush a little of it across her forehead and she gives me that beautiful smile again.

"Do you think, maybe you can drive me home?"

I nod, feeling a little more then sad that she has to leave, I scramble around my living room for my car keys.

* * *

My hands are shaky for some reason, I can barely maneuver the stirring wheel correctly, I can feel her eyes on me and I guess that's the reason why I can't drive right now. She looks around in my car, being nosy, looking in the backseat and then turning on the radio even though I didn't give her permission. Not like I mind anyway, this song sucks but she seems to like it, I keep looking at her and then on the road obsessively, she's caught me staring at least five times.

I follow the directions she gives me and after what feels like two hours, I finally pull up to a white house that she says is hers. I'm jealous, considering her living arrangements are definitely better then my crappy run down apartment.

"Um, So...Goodbye?" I say, unsure if I should hug her or just not do anything.

"Bye, Rosie." She says, her eyes soften up and she gets out of the car, she comes back, leaning in and kissing me again.

I practically melt in my car seat.

She leaves me and all I can do is watch sadly as her high hells hit the pavement noisily, she disappears behind her front door. I couldn't get the muscles in my throat relaxed enough to tell her how much I'd miss her. And as I drive back to my apartment, I realize something.

I think I might love her.

And I don't even know her name.

* * *

**dont kill meee Jer-chan. i know you dont like yuri but dont hurt meee. :X**


	3. Ketchup Popsicle

C h a p t e r | T w o

( Ketchup Popsicle )

* * *

I wake up, pulling myself up from my stomach as my bitten fingernails tapped against the yellow pillow case that I was resting my head on. My whole body feels _sore_, but a good kind of sore, which may sound weird. My body falls flat again, but only to stretch as I cover my mouth to yawn. In the foggy pit of which is also known as my mind, I know that I did something bad last night, I know that I'm going to have to deal with it today. But oddly enough, I'm not as worried as I thought I would be, which is completely unlike me. But everything feels so fuzzy and _great_ that I could care less right now. Oh god, I always feel so good after—

Wait, who did I bang last night?

I remember that I came home, really drunk obviously, and I remember coming home with someone. I remember kissing someone who was a _great_ kisser too, tongue in all the right places and everything. And then, I remember the fact that their is someone snoring softly next to me, I'm a little scared to look. I turn, and I see someone breathing under the comforter, I gently brush my fingers across the top before pulling it off. I don't scream or overreact when I see him, because it seems the moment itself has reached down my throat and robbed me of my voice. And it's not horrifying or anything, which is what you might expect, I'm just speechless.

Mario shifts against me, and I can feel my skin brush against his, my face flushes a deep scarlet in response. He muttered something that could've meant absolutely anything, from a 'yes' to a 'no' to a 'cheesecake', I debate on weather or not to wake him up and explain to him about this. But it's Mario we're talking about, the most unintelligent and insensitive person in the world, he'd freak out and probably accuse me of raping him or something. Which I'm sure I didn't, Mario wouldn't be sleeping next to me willingly if it were so. The thought of him writhing underneath me, breath hitched, and begging flickers across my mind. I feel kind of powerful.

I can't help the smile that's painted across my face.

Next to me, Mario shifts again. This time to reach over and smack my arm. He sits up slowly, eyes hazy and blank, rubbing them with his hands. Blue eyes, round and dark, gazed at their surroundings without really seeing. He sees me, but not the situation and of course, all he could think about is his stomach. I can hear it growling from here, faintly at first, and when he leans in towards me to kiss me on the cheek, he says only one thing before plopping his head back down to his pillow.

"Hmm, make me breakfast?"

I stare at him in disbelief, but I don't say anything else. I get up, making sure not to disturb him as I wander towards the kitchen.

´¨¤.¸¸´¨¤.¸¸´¨¤.¸¸

I yawn for the twenty seventh time today, staring blankly at the eggs sizzling in the greased frying pan in front of me, I reach my hands towards the bacon that sits next to me in an already open package. I place it on and step back, while the grease sizzles violently and falls onto the floor in teeny-tiny drops of brown. The eggs are almost done, so I pull out a plate and a glass of orange juice, when did I become Mario's chef? Can't he cook for himself? No, scratch that. We don't need another kitchen fire, I've already replaced the curtains, I can't spend money like that. I hardly make enough as it is. I remember the curtains costing me fifty dollars, which is a total fucking rip-off, but I was too foolish to realize it at the time.

I hear footsteps behind me, Mario's footsteps, I look away from the bacon for a second and stare at him. He yawns as well and he scratches behind his back, hair mussed up and eyes reading as sleepy still. He walks over, my eyes fall back on the bacon making sure it doesn't burn, I can feel Mario kissing the back of my head and it's more then a little awkward. So, are we acting like a couple now?

"Mornin'." Mario mumbles.

"Good morning." I reply, blushing a little when he rubs his cheek against mine. The bacon is done, so I slide it along side the eggs and put the plate in front of Mario. Mario sits at the dinner table, grabbing the bacon and nibbling at it slowly, looking at me while he does so.

"How'd you sleep last night?" He asks, slightly muffled by the bacon clenched between his teeth. I slide into the chair in front of him and take a piece of bacon as well, I wonder why he's being so casual even after what we did. He remembers right?

"Uh, fine." I mummer, the bacon's too crunchy, I end up scrunching my nose in disgust before spitting it out into my napkin.

"Well, that's nice." He says, already finished and I marvel at the fact that he can eat so fast. "My back kind of hurts though."

I study him for a bit, completely astonished about how he's dealing with this, just ignoring it. Like it didn't even happen, and I can't help but feel a little peeved. I clench my teeth, holding everything I desperately want to say in, which might cause some ulcers later. Mario switched gears and began talking of much more useless topics, but I had already tuned all sound at this point. Anger flickering through my entire body even though for the life of me, I can't really tell why.

"Are you alright? Weegee?" Mario asks me, leaning over the table towards me, face really close to mine and I can a blush creeping up into my cheeks.

"Yes," I squeak, my eyes blinking several times, I lean away from him. "Just fine, it's a little hot in here though."

The next thing I know, Mario is up and fiddling with the thermostat.

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Of all the weird things about Mario, the weirdest thing about him is that he loves putting ketchup on everything. And when I say everything, I mean _everything_. Cupcakes, muffins, éclairs, strawberry tarts, sponge cakes covered with inch-thick icing and topped off with glacé cherries – they were all heavenly despite the fact that they were always drenched in ketchup. He would always offer me some, but I'm actually not the fondest when it comes to ketchup. So I'd decline, in the politest way possible of course. He thought I was weird for not eating though, but in truth he is the odd one.

"I just don't get you, Weegee." He mumbled through a full mouth, lips stained with ketchup, fingers sprinkled with sugar. "It really does taste good, or I wouldn't be eating it."

"People have different tastes you know," I admonish, pinching his cheeks and pulling. "Not all people love ketchup as much as you do."

It was not long ago that we had that discussion, it was a few months at the least, and we're standing on the front porch - having the same discussion again. I bought two Popsicles outside, because the sun is steaming hot, and I wanted something cold in my mouth. And yes, I know how inappropriate that sounds, shut up. Mario's sitting next to me, kicking his feet against the floorboard underneath us. Mario's shoe scruffs the wood slightly, leaving small stark white lines across it.

"You bought me cherry right?" He asks, already reaching for a ketchup packet that's sticking out of the pocket of his denim overalls.

"Yes," I say, feeling my eyes narrow. "I don't think you should be putting so much of that stuff on everything you eat, I'm pretty sure it's not healthy." I add, poking his shoulder.

"I'm sure it's not." Is his reply, already squirting the red liquid onto the Popsicle and I cringe in disgust. "It's rude to stare at people like that when eating." He hissed bitterly, jerking his shoulder away from me, and I frown.

"I'm allowed to have an opinion." I mumble, licking at my popsicle and looking away from him. I can feel him bent his head close to my neck, he moves his lips against my skin, and the whole time I don't move an inch.

"Maybe you should have a taste?" He suggests, hand stroking my cheek and I can feel my face burning a bright shade of red.

"Don't get your hopes up." I say jokingly, just to hide the fact that Mario is making me nervous, but I guess he can already tell. I look at Mario, who's sporting a Cheshire Cat grin and I can feel his fingers close around the front of my collar, pulling me closer. I could taste the cherry on his lips mingled with the strange, sharp taste of artificially-enhanced ketchup, and it tasted nice. So nice in fact, that I found myself sticking my tongue in his mouth, trying to take in all the bizarre blend of flavours.

"Good?" Mario asks, and all I can do is nod.

* * *


End file.
